Stubborn Devotion
by MMWard
Summary: [Chapter 5 Up] Eventual RL. Their friendship was supposed to stay simply that: a friendship.
1. Dawning Declarations

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own the show or any of the characters in it. Quote's from Casablanca.

A/N: I had a sudden burst of inspiration _eight _years after I first wrote this and decided to revise and continue this story. Thanks for anyone who reviewed this story. You guys are definitely a big part of why I've decided to continue. The first three chapters have been reposted and the fourth should be coming out soon!

Logan and Rory have become friends in the two months after _The Party's Over._

* * *

**Prologue: Dawning Declarations**

It had started out innocently enough; they were hiding. An overzealous admirer had forced him to seek refuge in his room and en route, she appeared out of thin air and clamped onto his arm, begging him to save her from an extremely pissed off Paris. "Doyle thought Paris' article belonged on another page. Now she won't shut up about it."

Sounds from the party are slightly muted by his bedroom door, creating a feeling of isolation from the rest of the world. He shows her a bottle of wine he snagged from the makeshift bar and they make a toast to his forethought. She's never been a particularly strong drinker and that night, she's a pathetic spectacle to behold. The wine makes her exceptionally vulnerable and she spends her time trying to brush aside thoughts of Dean and sad to say it, Jess. To cheer her up, Logan cracks inane jokes about how Dean had been too tall, too simple to hold an intelligent conversation; how Jess-even though he's never met him-sounded like a clichéd bad boy. How neither was good enough for her anyway. When she's being especially maudlin, he rouses her to debates about anything and everything. Where did she stand politically? Which fast food had the best French fries? Did she root for the coyote or the road runner as a little kid? He's always been partial to the coyote himself; the guy just worked so hard to never succeed.

There is a reassuring kiss every now and then; on her forehead, on her cheek, until Rory becomes impatient and crashes her lips to his. He tastes fruity, oaky… bitter. Exactly how she feels. The thought brings her back to her senses and she immediately pushes him back. A moment passes-in which she bites her lip, eyes flitting around the room-before he tentatively edges toward her again. Noticing the confusion swirling in her eyes, Logan pauses to gauge her reaction, daring her to make a move. She begrudgingly sighs and gives in, tilting her face until their mouths meet; and she opens hers just that much wider when he slips his tongue in. Logan slowly eases her lower on the bed, his right hand lingering on the hem of her shirt. He feels warm and reassuring on her skin and she's too wrapped up in the moment to notice the screaming in her head of how she shouldn't be doing this.

"Logan! There's a girl looking for you out here!" Colin's voice carries over the music. They ignore him until the frantic banging starts. "Logan! Are you dead? I JUST SAID THERE'S A _WILLING _GIRL OUTSIDE YOUR DOOR."

Groaning as he stands, Logan slips off of Rory and rubs his hair, trying to make it look halfway decent. "I'll get rid of him."

She nods and cocoons herself in his comforter, unwilling to let the brief jolt of reality ruin her drunken haze.

The music blares loudly as Logan opens the door and a sudden pain hits her temples, something akin to a migraine. She realizes she's _this close _to puking and that would definitely be a mood killer.

"Logan." Rory hears a female voice from the doorway. The girl leans in closer to lay a hand on Logan's chest. "Where have you been? I've missed you. Can we talk? Privately?"

She's heard enough and the bile rises quickly to her throat. Hurriedly, Rory half jogs out of the room, holding her hand to her mouth. Rounding the corner to the girls' room, she shoves past several girls on their way out.

Her first brush of typical college life, vomiting into a germ infested bathroom seat. Lorelai's voice reverberates in her head. "I just don't want you to go through what I went through kid. You're better than those guys and that world. For God's sake you haven't even been properly drunk before." Well, that's one thing she can cross off her list. She stumbles to the sink to rinse out her mouth, keeping a firm grip on the bowl with both hands as she tries to maintain her balance.

The door opens as she finally succeeds in wresting a paper towel from the dispenser. "Rory."

Meekly glancing at him, she focuses on his cheek, not quite ready to see the evident amusement in his eyes.

"So I guess that last toast wasn't such a great idea," he says, casually rubbing her back as she's wiping her hands. "Come on Ace, I'll walk you home."

She leans into his shoulder, trying to steady herself as they walk down the hall. "So I've had a life changing realization."

"Really, when did this realization hit you? When you were puking into the toilet?"

"Actually, it was when that girl opened her mouth."

Logan absently shifts his hold on her waist. "Wow, an epiphany cultivated by a drunk girl because of a drunk girl. Now that's a dirty joke waiting to happen."

"Ba-dum-dum. What a gentlemen. I can see why there's a line to get to you. Anyway, we're getting away from my epiphany."

"Oh yes, the dawning declaration that will change the world. So what did you come up with?"

They've entered the main entrance to her dorm. "I was thinking that I, Rory Gilmore, am most honest in my drunken moments." She's throwing him a line, baiting him.

"And why do you think this?"

"Because I end up living life, acting on impulses. It's the only time I don't worry about expectations or what other people think."

"So kissing me was an impulse."

"Yep, just something I wanted to do."

"So… you saw this girl hit on me and saw a kindred spirit?"

"Well, maybe not a kindred spirit. She doesn't seem like someone I'd want to go to the mall with, but she was only doing what I had done. She just wanted your attention."

He only half understands everything she's saying but grins all the same. Reaching her dorm, Rory tries several times to open the door (repeatedly waving off his help) before she wordlessly hands him the key. Logan manages to curb her stumbling to a minimum as he leads her to the bed and takes off her shoes. "All right, the trash can is in easy access. Just lean over okay?"

Nodding, Rory's eyes are already shut. "My knight in shining armor rescuing me with a well-placed trash can. We'll get you a horse in the morning."

"I appreciate the sentiment. Night, Ace." The door clicks as he leaves the room.

* * *

The next morning is terrible. The noise, the sunlight, the _smell_; they've all combined forces to sway her from drinking ever again. "Don't worry," Rory dramatically mutters to the room. "Next time I'll just jump off a cliff instead."

She slowly sits up to rest her weight on her hands before quickly flopping down again, unwilling to indulge in the sun's rays. A couple minutes later she finally makes it out of bed, listlessly dragging herself to the bathroom. Stopping short, she ends up flopping into a kitchen chair instead, cradling her head in her hands.

"It's a shame really. You could've stayed home and avoided the retching, the migraine, the overall crappy feeling. But no, anything's better than listening to Paris go on and on about her problems."

Rory groans, knowing it won't change a thing. "Not now Paris, please? Or you could keep going but I'm barely listening as is."

Paris looks at her slumped figure in disgust. "Fine, I'll lay off for now. Just don't make a habit out of this. I didn't waste all this time on you so that you could turn around and become some typical frat groupie. Remember when we tried the whole spring break thing? You were the one that 'had no desire to feel that way again.' Where did that girl go?"

"It's not like I do this every weekend. So I drank, big whoop. That's what college is for." Her anger dissipates enough of the spinning for her to make a grab at the Advil on the table. "I'm sorry that I stepped off of my pedestal for one night-"

"One night? Listen up _princess_. You've screwed up multiple times. Everyone's just _conveniently_ forgotten when you slept with Dean _while _he was still married. Don't fool yourself into believing that you're still considered perfect as you've implied."

"Well I'm sorry I couldn't follow your example and sleep with a professor instead but I guess I have something to strive for now don't I?" The words burn leaving her mouth and she's suddenly plagued with images of Paris coming at her with a chainsaw. "Wait, I'm so sorry. That… that wasn't what I meant."

She doesn't even flinch when Paris slams the stack of books on the table and storms out. "Good going, Rory. Way to prove you belong on a pedestal."

This was definitely a day to be spent in bed.

* * *

"Feeling better, Ace? Move over a little would you?" Logan all but pushes Rory to the side and makes himself comfortable on her bed.

She snorts in annoyance but wiggles over to give him some space. "I shouldn't be near people. I need to be locked up as soon as possible."

"I only left you a couple hours ago. I doubt you could do anything permanently damaging in such a short amount of time."

"Let's see, shall we?" Rory raises her hand, counting off each infraction. "I got up this morning with the biggest migraine known to man. I've alienated my roommate with an offensive comment about her last relationship and I'm pretty sure she's going to murder me in my sleep tonight. My mom is going to be disappointed when she hears that I've delved myself further into the world she constantly berates. I have about a week's amount of homework to catch up on… and I have this feeling I did something incredibly embarrassing yesterday night."

"Has anyone ever told you, you worry too much? And over the dumbest things, I gotta say." He grabs her hand just before she has a chance to slap his leg. "Violent tendencies too, I've learned too much about you in these past twenty-four hours."

"I'm not in the mood to be mocked."

"Who would be?" Logan starts outlining circles in her palm with his thumb. "Listen, in a couple hours the headache will be gone. Then you'll apologize to your roommate for whatever you said and she'll accept because it'll be nauseatingly remorseful and appropriate since you've been forming this apology while having said argument. Next you'll realize that this is your life and not your mother's and that she probably already understands this even if she disapproves. And then, you're going to spend every minute in the library starting tomorrow."

"Why not today?"

"Studying with a hangover makes things worse, not better. Trust me."

Silence blankets the room as she realizes that he's still holding her hand. "So was I right? Did I do anything incredibly stupid last night?"

His thumb pauses for a moment as he mulls over the question, smiling in recollection. "Not stupid per say, but definitely not what I had defined as Rory-like behavior."

"Oh." She takes a moment to collect herself. "And did this particular scenario have any rippling effects that I should be aware of? Just-" She's suddenly aware of the butterflies in her stomach. "I'd like to be prepared for a counter attack or if I'm suddenly going to have to duck out of every room you enter." Against her better judgment, intentions and expectations have woven themselves into her question.

"No." Well that was quick. "As I see it, the girl in this scenario was more than a little intoxicated and had merely followed her impulses. Right?"

A subtle letdown wrapped in a partial hypothetical.

"Oh, yeah right." Rory clears her throat as she struggles to hide her disappointment. "Right."

"Anyway-" Abruptly he sits up and grabs his shoes. "I just wanted to see how you were feeling. I have to get back. Finn's about to wake up from his nap."

As he's leaving, she suddenly blurts out his name, effectively stopping him in the doorway. "Logan? We're-" Rory shuts her eyes tight and opens them once more, willing herself to finish as cringe worthy as it'll sound. "We're friends, right?"

He grins-reminding her of the first day they met-and quotes, "Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."


	2. Satisfying Repetition

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own the show or any of the characters in it.

A/N: I've tweaked the Yale dorm to include a bathroom. This takes place two months after the last chapter.

* * *

**Chapter Two: Satisfying Repetition**

"Mmm… shove over Ace. You're not even big enough to take up half the bed."

Rory blearily opens her eyes to Logan clumsily trying to fit himself onto her twin sized bed. "Logan? How did you get in here?"

"Paris let me in."

That wakes her up. "You woke up Paris?"

He's still trying to get comfortable and keeps grabbing at the covers from under her. "The light was still on when I knocked. Don't worry. I'll protect you tomorrow if Paris is standing over the bed holding a knife."

She rolls her eyes. "You have a perfectly nice queen sized bed in your own room. Why am I always sharing my tiny little twin?"

He's finally settled and completely exhausted (a whole night of vodka shots tends to do that) but manages to offer an explanation. "You know the drill. Party close by your dorm. I don't seem to have the equilibrium to make it to my own."

She's now teetering on the edge of anger and images of him doing body shots off statuesque girls sear into her brain. Yet he always comes back to her; safe, reliable Rory who can always be counted on to share her bed.

Turning over to challenge him, she ends up staring instead; wrinkling her nose when she realizes the smell is coming from him. It never ceases to amaze how much alcohol clings onto a person's clothes, skin, breath. She unsuccessfully tries to turn him onto his side but he stirs and lays a kiss on her forehead, instructing her to sleep. He casually lays another sloppy kiss on her neck before turning over, blissfully dead to the world. Quickly grabbing the majority of the covers before the four o'clock ritual blanket fight ensues, Rory makes the best of her miniscule space and tries to fall asleep.

The next morning is unpleasant. She wakes up with a stiff neck and Logan's body weight dwarfing her own. Awkwardly trying to focus on her alarm clock, Rory abruptly heaves him off the bed; 10:00 lit brightly in red.

A petulant look sets on his face. "What was that for?" He doesn't bother waiting for her answer before pulling down a pillow and blanket to form a makeshift bed on the floor.

"My mom's visiting in half an hour so you need to be out in five minutes."

He sits up, suddenly bright eyed and grinning mischievously.

"Actually," Logan says drawing out the word. "I have, let's say twenty-five minutes, and that includes making coffee. In fact, I should get started on that now." He swiftly removes the cover and practically runs for her bathroom.

"Logan!" She races after him. "This isn't some frat house. It's mydorm. I should at least get the bathroom first." After a couple minutes, she pounds on the door again to no avail. "Logan!"

"Keep your relationship in the bedroom! Some people are _trying _to study!" Reluctantly accepting Logan as part of Rory's life doesn't actually qualify as Paris' approval.

She's quickly taken aback as the bathroom door opens. "She's right you know, don't you ever think about others?"

Rory merely levels him with a stare.

"Alright, alright. Don't look at me like that. It's not like I ate the last of your pop tarts." Leaving the bathroom, Logan gestures her in. "I'll make the coffee."

"See? It's only been fifteen minutes. We're swimming in time." He gulps down half the cup in one swallow while reaching into his back pocket.

"Yeah, yeah. You've made the coffee. Now get out."

"Wait, give me a sec. I think I left my wallet on your desk." A knock diverts her attention as he makes his way into her room.

"Mom, you're early!"

"Why?" Lorelai sticks her head in and peers around. "Is Paris having another session?"

"I'm not going to a shrink! Terrence is a _life_ coach!"

"I was just kidding Paris!" She proceeds to mouth, "Good ears."

"She says it makes up for her lousy eyesight." Rory's waffling between her options but doesn't see a way out (she could suggest they go for coffee but she's still wearing pajamas) and reluctantly widens the door. "Anyway, come in."

"So I have this crazy story about Michel trying to teach Sookie, of all people, how to improve her beef-"

"I finally found it. Your room has gotten quite out of hand for such a perfectionist as…" Logan trails off, collecting himself at the sight of Lorelai. Grinning, he adopts his company tone. "Lorelai, how are things at the inn?"

"Fine." Lorelai gives a false smile as curiosity takes hold. She wants to know how permanent he is in her daughter's life and has the sudden urge to barter her arm for a chance to scrutinize their interaction. Before she's able to extend an invitation for him to join them, Logan heads straight to the door.

"Well, I'll leave you two ladies to talk. Call you later Ace."

As the door slams shut, she turns to Rory who's staring intently at her shoes. "So, I guess your night was crazier than mine."

Slightly bristling at the comment, she walks to the counter and pours more coffee into her mug. "It was nothing, mom."

"Having boys come out of your bedroom the morning after is nothing?"

"You make it sound as if I slept with him."

"Didn't you?"

Rory hardly flinches at the implication. Trust doesn't ebb quite as well between them as it used to. "No mom, I didn't. We're just friends."

Lorelai silently sighs in relief when Rory confirms what she already knew… deep, deep down. "I know that I'm being neurotic and letting my inner Emily run free. It's just, I'm never going to be comfortable watching boys waltz in and out of my daughter's bedroom." She sees Rory give a small acknowledging nod-still studiously avoiding Lorelai's gaze. "So are you sure you're okay with being friends? You don't have urges to jump his bones in the middle of the night do you?"

Rory lets out a sheepish smile as she rolls her eyes, defusing some of the tension in the room. "No, we're just friends. He's too flaky for anything else. I mean he's got a hundred girls on speed dial and do you know that he keeps an overnight robe for guests? I would be really, _really_ stupid to get involved with him like that. So, we're just friends. And I'm fine. I'm totally fine with being friends."

She can see the glimmers of denial lurking behind Rory's words, but decides not to push the matter. "Well, you sound fine."

"Yep." She changes the subject. "Now tell me about Michel. Did Sookie whop him with a frying pan?"

"No, but she was very close to stabbing him with her favorite steak knife… which could be taken as a compliment when you think about it."

* * *

A couple hours later she's knocking impatiently on his door, trying to ignore the onslaught of bewildering emotions that's cropped up since the conversation with her mom this morning.

He opens the door to find a very agitated Rory and motions her in. "You're looking particularly bright and chipper today. Tell me, did you finally convince the baristas that it was okay for them to just shoot coffee straight into your veins?"

She ignores him and makes a bee line for his cd racks. "Thanks for letting me borrow this." She puts the cd back in its proper place and scans through the rest of his collection.

"So, I bet the conversation this morning with your mom was awkward." Rory tenses up at the mention of this. "What did she say?"

A sarcastic smile forms on her face as she faces him. "No worries, she's used to all types of men leaving my room by now. It's when they come out naked that she has a problem with. I think that's a little harder to get out of her mind."

"And a little harder to get out of mine. Thanks for the visual." He flops down on the couch. "So it really wasn't a big deal?"

She turns back to continue perusing the racks. "No, not really. She was understandably confused at first but I told her we're friends. It's just, I just hate when she gets that tone you know? As if she knows something about me that I don't. As if she knows more about my own feelings than I do. I completely meant it when I said it would be crazy for me to want more."

Used to her aimless babbling, Logan closes his eyes in the middle of her rant. He woke up too early (or rather, was rudely woken up) this morning. "Sorry Ace. I have no idea what you're talking about."

She moves to the couch to gather her wits, suddenly steeling herself against the surge of emotions that could no longer be disregarded. Yet her tone is deceptively breezy when she speaks. "Nothing, it's nothing." Making the mistake of looking down at his sleeping form, her fondness for him starts to cloud her confidence. She purses her lips and tries to think of anything else; tries to erase any amorous thoughts about Logan until she doubts their existence. "It doesn't matter anyway." Rory shakes her head to emphasize her point and quickly gets up. "I have to get to the library. I'll see you later."

"Hey." Squinting, he looks up as she's putting on her coat. "I'm picking you up in an hour and a half. No jeans."

Rory suddenly perks up. "Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise. Just no jeans."

* * *

"Surprise, surprise, we're going to your parents' house, again. I've been here half a dozen times since I've met you." She knows this amount exactly thanks to her grandmother's need to rub it in Lorelai's face every time she sees Rory at these gatherings.

"And has there been a moment in one of those six times that hasn't been fun?"

Rory dawdles on the first step of the walkway. "The time Finn had the _brilliant_ idea of following up a bottle of Jack Daniels with a plate of hor'derves and I spent the night alternately running to the kitchen for aspirin or dragging the three of you to the bathroom."

He shrugs his shoulders. "Okay, so there have been a_ few_ mishaps. But how about the event after that where you spent the night alternately dancing on my feet or stuffing your face with overly priced desserts? And there's no Finn or Colin tonight."

She grins at the recollection, remembering the conversation about worst memories-particularly one exchange referring to Logan's inability to be potty-trained until seventh grade.

"Besides Ace, you're the only one I actually enjoy attending these forced engagements with."

Rory lightheartedly passes him on the steps and rings the doorbell. "You don't need to butter me up if I'm already here. And don't get upset. I wouldn't want you to have a scary dreamtonight."

"It was _one_ time! And it wouldn't have been half as embarrassing if the maid hadn't walked in with—Hello Alice."

The maid stammers a hello, unwilling to glance up from the hardwood floor.

"Hi Alice!" She meticulously disregards Logan's warranted glare as they walk through the foyer.

"She's never looked me in the face again after that." He grabs two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter and downs one.

Rory quickly grabs the other. "Not tonight. I'm wearing heels Logan. They're hard enough to walk in without hauling your dead weight around." She mentally straightens her spine, standing a little taller than usual and promptly hates herself for trying to impress these people. However, it's developed into a practiced habit.

He turns to smile innocently at her. "Noproblem, we'll just have to make our own fun tonight."

Almost immediately reconsidering her decision, she tries to hand back the glass knowing full well his suggestion has the potential to be much worse.

"Logan. Why, I haven't seen you in years." An older man suddenly appears by Rory's side.

"And who is this little beauty? Is this your girlfriend Logan?"

"Actually"-Rory waits for the inevitable introduction of 'friend'-"it's getting to be a little more serious than that. We're heading towards _engagement_," he whispers the last word.

She merely stares at him in disbelief. "What did you just say?"

Logan gently leans closer to the older man and lowers his voice even more. "She doesn't like to be tied down with labels so I'm easing her slowly into making a full commitment."

The man grins earnestly and peeks at Rory. "Yes, a girl like her, no wonder you've finally settled down boy." With a final pat on Logan's shoulder, the man walks away to a nearby group of people.

"Logan!" She grabs onto his arm. "Now everyone else here is going to think we're engaged in the next five minutes."

"Who cares? Half of these people think we're on the brink of elopement from that lovely husband party your grandparents threw you and you used the same reason when you scared the shit out of me with Richard."

She makes a noise to signal her disgruntled admission and drags him after that same old man. Joining the conversation, Rory smiles brightly. "You all know Logan I presume. Isn't he just the greatest?" She happily laces her fingers through his and raises their hands. "We've been together for a year and a half now"-a pout forms with her lips-"Why are you taking so long to propose honey? I want to be Mrs. Huntzberger as soon as possible."

Logan promptly slips into his role. He kisses their interwoven hands and carefully concentrates on Rory, taking no notice of the delighted (and one slightly confused) adults surrounding them. "Soon, I promise. I'm just having a horrible time picking out the ring."

"Oh men." She waves off the excuse and looks knowingly at the woman next to her. "They're helpless without us."

The woman grabs Rory's wrist and beams. "Don't I know it dear."

"Well I'm quite parched." She leans in close, and straightens his tie. "Care to accompany me to the bar?"

"Love to, Rory." Logan glances around at everyone else. "Ladies, gentlemen," he says, nodding after each word. "I hope you all have a wonderful evening."

Making a hasty detour before hitting the bar, Rory stops in front of another cluster of adults. "I assume you all know Logan…"

"I have to hand it to you Ace." Logan shakes his head in disbelief as he starts up the car. "I didn't know you had it in you."

She's waving through the window at Honor and is almost amazed as he is by her own audacity. "Yeah… me either." She smirks at the notion.


	3. Favorite girl

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own the show or any of the characters in it.

Song featured: Favorite girl – Joseph Arthur

* * *

**Chapter Three: Favorite girl**

_In your version of this world_  
_you're everybody's favorite girl_

The night is humid and sticky and clings to his skin as he strolls across campus. Moonlight illuminates his path as he tracks through several lawns, stopping in front of her window. The room is dimly lit by the lamp in the corner and she's hunched over her desk, fervently glancing from one open book to the next. Logan's half-exasperated and half-amused; of course she's studying. He really has missed her.

Hearing shuffling from outside, Rory quickly turns in her seat to look at the window. She's further bewildered when a fist raps against the pane and the sound morphs into the chorus of "Gimme Shelter."

Making her way over, she pushes the window out a crack to see Logan standing outside, hands casually shoved in his pockets.

"Hey Ace, how's it been?"

Her tone is flat when she speaks. "So Sheila's gone?" He hasn't been returning phone calls or making appearances dutifully for three weeks now which usually served as an indication that there was a new girl involved.

He shrugs in reply before smiling sheepishly. Logan got bored. It was as simple as that.

Rory merely responds with an obligatory sigh, reprimanding him for his behavior towards girls, but above all, for his behavior towards her.

He moves toward the window and rests his left hand on the window pane, wordlessly asking to be let in. She rolls her eyes but steps away and he gracefully climbs through.

"Don't bother asking questions you already have answers to." He walks to her bookshelf, idly pulling down _Arrowsmith_ and grimaces in remembrance. He holds the cover up for her to see. "There are about a thousand things I'd rather endure than read this again,"

A slight anger colors her cheeks and she's ready to launch into a twenty minute justification for Sinclair Lewis' effective use of local color. "It's detailed enough for-"

Logan swiftly cuts her off. "It's mundane." He slides the novel back in place, signaling his end to the conversation.

Sitting back at her desk, she focuses on her books (mildly aggravated that she hadn't been able to finish her argument). "Why are you here, Logan? Go bother Colin and Finn. I'm sure they'll manage to keep your interest."

He smiles widely at her dismissive tone, pleased that he could goad her into further fury over a book. Her mood is easy enough to dismantle; say the right words, do the right things-and he always does. "I know I haven't been around lately which means that you probably haven't seen sunlight in God knows-" She starts to glare at him and he finishes his thought quickly. "I've missed you, Ace. I just… wanted to see you. Honest." Logan holds his hand up, mock- Boy Scouts.

Rory's seen him use that look too many times-the perfect amalgamation of contrition and sincerity-to be bowled over by his sentiment. But she's used to him and his habits by now and they've established enough groundwork in their relationship for her to justifiably give up her anger. Truce, she thinks but can't help uttering a small quip. "Cary Grant's got _nothing_ on you."

"Time for a break." He's standing behind her now, simultaneously closing the textbook and re-capping the hi-liter taken out of her hand.

Unsurprisingly, she makes her disapproval known as she tries to reclaim the marker held slightly out of reach.

"I'm serious. I will drag you out of this room if I have to."

"Then it's a good thing for you that I switched to Diet Coke."

Switching tactics, he tries a different approach. "You'll be first in line for Cocoa Puffs."

"Been there, done that."

He's spoiled her. "I'll let you use the coffee machine this time."

She quickly turns to look at him, eyes shining from anticipation. "Really?"

_Finally_. "Sure, why not?"

* * *

They're sitting across from one another, two coffees in the middle and a large bowl of cereal in front of each. She dangles the spoon lightly above the bowl and occasionally skims the surface of the milk, waiting for it to turn brown.

"My mother asked about you at our last Huntzberger gathering." She shoots him a disbelieving stare and waits for him to continue; Shira Huntzberger almost had a heart attack before she found out their 'engagement' had been a sham. "Let's just say she wasn't too taken to Sheila when I had to piggyback her to the car by the end of the night."

"A few more incidents like that and your mother might stop with the thinly veiled insults about my upbringing. 'Oh Rory, all this talent and yet you have trouble disciplining the maid when she brings you the wrong drink. It's okay, dear. You weren't bred for this lifestyle.'"

"A few more incidents like that and my mom will positively welcome you into the family, lofty aspirations and all."

They wryly smile at each other.

"Doubtful," she says and they both know she's right. His mother accepts her in his life because she believes Rory poses no threat to her son's future.

A comfortable silence settles between them, interrupted by the occasional slurp or scraping of a chair when someone goes to refill their bowl. Three weeks hasn't changed their interactions in the slightest. All residual confusions about their relationship have-more than not-vanished, leaving behind a different pull towards one another. He's never had a Webster-defined friendship with the opposite sex and astonishingly, neither has she.

"Astronaut." Every once in a while they take turns inventing imaginary futures for one another; usually when faced with their own forthcoming aspirations.

Rory slurps the chocolate milk from her spoon and raises her eyes to look at him. "Why?"

"Because you love to travel and this will take you far, far away."

"Any kids?"

He pretends to think this over, alternately counting on his fingers, one or two. "Six. Four girls and two boys."

"Married or divorced?"

"Married. You guys drive around in a minivan and have three dogs." She's always married with an insane amount of kids.

"And where are you?"

Logan stacks her bowl on top of his and she drops her spoon into the top bowl with a loud clatter. He grins. "I'm on the spaceship with you."

* * *

Once they've rinsed out the bowls and cups (she refuses to leave until everything is back in their rightful place), they head back to her dorm.

The rain starts slowly, a few drops trickle on their heads, arms, and faces. Quickening their step, they try to outrun the inevitable as the mist falls faster, blurring their vision; the damp heat surrounding them moments before turns into a brisk cold.

Logan clutches her hand, urging her to move faster, but she stops dead in her tracks. "Come on Ace!"

Rory shakes her head and drops his hand, choosing to stick her tongue in the air to catch the falling rain.

"You're going to catch pneumonia out here!" He's shivering in place marveling over the irony that he's the one thinking responsibly.

Her pajamas are thoroughly soaked, the Betty Boop pattern starkly contrasting the white fabric, and she starts to twirl. "You've effectively killed my enthusiasm for studying tonight Huntzberger. The least you can do is join me."

A challenge; He makes his decision quickly and walks toward her, draping his blazer on her back. The heavy rain immediately darkens his shirt. "Dance with me."

Her arms slip through the sleeves and Rory places her hands on each of his shoulders, smiling. "I bet you say this to all the girls."

"Only to my favorite girl." His tone is rarely serious, but she's fairly certain he's sincere this time and is instantaneously warmed by his words.

Logan tries to teach her the Viennese waltz, continuously muttering the tempo under his breath. His face is lined with concentration and she affectionately watches him-amused that he would put sober effort into teaching her the waltz, but procrastinates as best he can on a ten minute assignment.

"You're going to be a weather man."

He gives up the fancy footwork (tired of his feet being stepped on) and they settle into a languid back-and-forth sway. "Why?"

She beams at him and he's reminded of a little kid delighting in her own cleverness. "Because then you'll get your daily attention fix and you get to wear suits every day."

They both start laughing over how seemingly perfect this career is for him.

"Kids?"

"Twins, boy and girl. You see them on the weekends once a month when your ex-wife goes to the spa."

"And you fit in how?"

"Duh, leading news anchor."

Sheltered by the rain, it was only the two of them, traipsing around in the storm. Time was thought of in fragments and sensations-how closely they were huddled together, shivering slightly from the cold; how she could smell the Axe body spray Logan bought on a whim (because he swears that the Axe effect really does happen in real life) when she leans in close; how tightly he grips her waist when she slips in a puddle and he can feel her whole body tremble with laughter; how they were both dizzy for minutes after the childish contest to see who could spin in circles the longest-all intricately woven together to form a vivid and tempting memory to be remembered on future rainy days when they are reminiscing about their past.

Drops of rain cling to eyelashes before making their way down faces and he shakes his head close to her face. She hastily shoves him back when the water hits her cheeks. Grinning apologetically, Logan holds his arms out again which she begrudgingly steps back into, continuing their dance.

* * *

Rory visits his dorm the next night, her bag loaded with supplies.

"This is all your fault."

She quietly closes the door behind her. "I know what you are, but what am I?" Despite her mocking tone, she does feel a tiny bit responsible, knowing it was her idea that caused Logan to stay in bed tonight instead of going out with Colin and Finn.

Standing in front of him, she pulls out the items, one by one. "Clam chowder, your favorite, oyster crackers, popcorn, Dayquil, Nyquil, and …" Rory holds up the last item triumphantly. "Arrested Development, season one."

He hides his excitement well, choosing to turn and face the opposite wall. "I've seen it, thanks."

Rolling her eyes, she puts everything back in the bag and heads into the living room. "Fine _baby_, stay in here and sulk. I'll be outside enjoying the entire season all over again."

"I will," he mutters to the empty room.

She's already sitting on the couch (popcorn in her lap, remote in hand) when he trudges out of his room, a gray fleece wrapped around his shoulders. Logan tosses a second blanket to her, knowing she would've eventually demanded his as the night went on. She hands him the soup before clicking play and leans back with her legs spread out beside her to claim some space on the couch. They start shuffling every which way until both are reasonably satisfied and he finally focuses on the show, enjoying his soup.

The television stays on long after they have both fallen asleep; dim shades of green and blue dancing across their bodies. They're lying on opposite arm rests and every once in a while she has to blindly shove his feet away from her face because he's always been a restless sleeper.

_I don't know what I should do  
I've been so happy bein' unhappy with you_


	4. Sincere Motivations

Disclaimer:Obviously I don't own the show or any of the characters in it.

AN: It's finally up! I honestly never thought I'd revisit this story but I'm definitely glad I did. I've outlined most of the future chapters so hopefully the wait between chapters won't take _years._ Props to anyone who catches the Veronica Mars reference below (my love of Logan Echolls knows no bounds).

* * *

**Chapter Four: Sincere Motivations**

"We're leaving for Chicago in two weeks." He drops his bag beside her stool before sitting down in the chair across from her.

Taking another sip from her steaming mug, she merely raises an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

"My father just bought a small newspaper there and he wants me to put in time, see how he works. As usual, I declined his generous offer-" Logan holds up his hand when she opens her mouth. "Before you lecture me on how _lucky I am_, let me finish."

She pouts before taking another sip of coffee but manages to stay quiet.

"I told him that unlike me, you would be _thrilled_ at the prospect of such an opportunity and that if he hires you, there would be a bigger chance I'd stop by the office more." Settling back into his chair, he happily waits for her reaction.

"I… wait… what?"

The girl never disappoints. He smiles widely and leans forward again. "You have the option of coming with me to Chicago this summer instead of dawdling in Stars Hollow working at a bookstore. What d'you say, Ace?"

Her face breaks into a grin. "I say yes! The whole summer?"

"The internship lasts for six weeks. I'll be heading to my family's place in Martha's Vineyard after."

"Six weeks," she repeats, the words slowly taking on new meaning. "My mom's going to kill me."

"What?"

"She's always going on about how summer is the only time the house feels like home again." Rory bites her lip in apprehension, but can't help the small smile that tugs at her face. "What am I going to be doing in Chicago?"

"Shadow him, I think. Sort of like an assistant slash secretary."

He can make out the words "my mom's going to kill me" before her head drops down on the table.

"So I've heard."

* * *

After being ushered in by Doyle (who's thankfully wearing pants this time), he finds her on the phone; cheeks pink as she adamantly argues into the phone.

"Mom-I know it's half of the summer-I know I promised-I just…" Rory squeezes her eyes shut and blinks rapidly, trying to calm herself. "No, we're still just friends. It's not that kind of situation-It's a really good opportunity for me. I know you want what's best-I'm going to miss you too Mom," she says roughly, trying to paste a quick end to the bickering. There is an abrupt pause in their conversation. Her voice softens as he assumes that Lorelai has echoed similar sentiments. "Okay, I'll call you tomorrow." Groaning, she falls back on the bed where he's already sprawled out and his hand automatically falls beside her head, fingers playing with her hair.

They lay in relative silence (eyes closed, she's fighting the urge to fall asleep right then and there) until she's gained enough energy to brush his arm away and propels herself forward, her feet landing on solid ground. "I still have to finish packing by tomorrow."

While she packs away her books, he entertains himself by eavesdropping in on one of Paris and Doyle's infamous fights about whose turn it was to sleep on the left side. They're particularly loud tonight and when Rory returns after retrieving yet another empty box, Logan tells her that he thinks Paris just threw a book at Doyle.

"Huh." She's distracted as she answers, separating the remaining books into piles. "Paris usually prefers shoes. She claims they're easier to grip."

Logan's finally forced to sit up when she drops an empty box on his stomach and he reluctantly shuffles across her room to gather the picture frames from her dresser. "By the way, my dad's already found an apartment for us. Fully furnished, two bedrooms, two baths, complete with our very own manservant and a chandelier in the ballroom."

"Swanky. So..." She trails off, suddenly fixated on labeling the packed box. "I think we need to set up some ground rules."

"Ground rules?"

"Yeah, you know, who should do what chores, what should we do about guests and… what should we do when we have overnight guests?"

"Overnight guests?" He sees her diligently staring at the box and grins knowingly. "_Overnight guests_. You have plans for this summer that I need to know about?"

Rory huffs indignantly. "This conversation is more for you than me, I'm sure. I just don't want to walk into your room and see something I don't want to see."

"Fair enough." He decides to humor her and drop the subject. "We'll follow the rules of college, shall we? Don't disturb if there's a sock on the door."

Looking relieved, she nods in agreement. "Settled. Now, about those chores…"

* * *

Over the next week, they argue every time Chicago is discussed, down to every last detail. The conversation about splitting up the drive drags on for days.

"Try none, Ace. You're dangerous behind the wheel."

"I drive perfectly fine! Just because I don't weave in and out of traffic just to get somewhere a few seconds earlier like you do-"

"At least _I've_ never hit a deer."

"It ran into me!"

It's settled when he brings up the ridiculous notion of how the deer's family might come looking for revenge and she caves just to stop the conversation. She didn't particularly care about winning this argument anyway.

* * *

Subsequently, the next fight revolves around rent and this time she won't back down. They're glaring at one another from opposite sides of his living room; her eyes flashing, his hands balled into fists. She refuses to take a handout but he reasons that she's too stubborn for her own good.

"I'm paying half the rent, _Logan_."

"That's going to be most of your paycheck, _Rory_."

"I don't care. I'm not going to sit back and let someone else pay for everything."

The little jab doesn't escape him. Working his jaw, he tries to keep his voice level. "You mean like me?"

Her stance slightly softens and she finds herself studying the carpet beneath her feet. "You said it, not me." A stab of guilt takes hold in her chest as the words flutter out but she continues steadily past him to walk out the door.

They don't talk for the next three days and she convinces herself that it's for the best; that she may have been harsh, but charity was never her style.

But on the fourth day, she breaks down and calls him, deems herself weak for giving in-but the phone rings on regardless. It's nothing short of a small miracle when he picks up, but Rory immediately scales back her relief when she's met with silence. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said. I was just being stupid-"

He cuts her off. "People have said worse. It's okay."

Stunned by how little effort it took, she can't help pushing the issue. "That's it?"

"The almighty Rory calling herself stupid was plenty, believe me."

They compromise this time, agreeing that half of her paycheck would go towards rent. She only accepts that the internship comes with paid public transportation when he tells her his father insisted.

* * *

He sets aside the rest of the time before Chicago to spend with Colin and Finn with the same amount of zeal she puts into planning days with her mother.

Logan's different around her when they're by themselves and she prefers him that way. So Rory minds her own business, listens to all the latest gossip, and preferably steers clear of his group of friends. They've never wronged her personally, but she's never had any great ambition to get to know them either.

But this time, he drags her to Colin's birthday with unusual vigor-claiming that she needed experiences, and sitting at home all the time wasn't very 'reporter girl' of her. Rory tries to wiggle out of it by arguing every minute of this week should be spent with her mother. Nevertheless, Logan's especially motivated tonight and pours it on thick about how they won't see each other for a week. That if she goes to the party with him, he won't step one foot into Stars Hollow to crash their mother/daughter time. Besides, he says, he can't be trusted to not get wasted if everyone else is.

She huffily hangs up on him and her doorbell rings a minute after. He's met with a reluctant Lorelai, who's a bit miffed that he was there to take away her baby girl. Rory had given Lorelai a rushed, almost unintelligible-she had only understood the words 'Colin's birthday,' 'I'm so sorry,' 'Designated babysitter,' 'Logan's unstable on his own'-explanation of her plans that night before running frantically into her room to change.

They remain near the door and exchange polite pleasantries, taking turns at posing pointless questions until Rory finally emerges. Kissing her mother on the cheek, she reassures her that she'll be home early and pushes Logan out the door. As Lorelai watches them back out of the driveway, she absently rubs at the lipstick mark on her cheek, wishing Logan didn't remind her so much of Christopher.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Logan pulls up to Colin's mansion and parks in the driveway behind an ever growing succession of cars. He holds her door open as she's glued to her seat, gawking at the gaudy fountain in front. The enormous winged angel monstrosity on top is especially bewitching.

"Colin's stepmother is fascinated with the supernatural. She's also got great taste don't you think?"

"Great, great taste." Rory finally steps out of the car when he tells her the fountain is just a preamble to what's inside. "So what's the theme of this year's shindig? Underworld? Twilight?"

Glancing over with an appreciative smirk, he says, "No theme this year. Colin just wanted a small house party."

"Small house party huh?" She smiles in return. "Well, this is hardly a small house. Small house parties include loud music coming from the back and drunken kids spilling out of every direction because there's too many people."

Logan shrugs. "Everyone usually fits inside."

"What a surprise."

He gestures her through the archway of Colin's front door and they're immediately swallowed by the crowd. Spotting another hideous artifact, she turns around to show Logan but realizes he's long gone. The crowd jostles her as she comes to a standstill and she has to scan the room twice before spotting the familiar flash of blond near the doorway, already surrounded by a group of girls.

Rory purposefully stalks back to the front and sidles up beside him to grasp his arm before flashing a bright smile at the other girls. "Sorry, he's not supposed to leave my side tonight."

He can only helplessly shrug as he's dragged behind her.

"Ace, I never took you for the jealous type." Logan's finally tugged his arm away and proceeds to wrap both arms around her, forcing her into a staggered bear hug. Rolling her eyes (as a reluctant smile passes through her lips) she starts to lean back into his body; leans until there ceased to be space between them, forcing him to stumble over his feet. He merely tightens his hold.

Not to be deterred, Rory blindly reaches behind her with her hand (after narrowly missing his right eye) and pinches his cheek. "I never was until you came along, _sweetie_. Who can resist this adorable face?"

"You're making me feel like a dog." They've reached the bar and he lets go, electing to stand beside her and signals for the bartender.

"Good." Warily, she eyes the drink in Logan's hand as he tries to pass it to her. Mistrust radiates from her posture-eyes narrowed, straight back-and her body slightly recoils from his hand. Drinking leads to fleeting moments of insanity, leaving a vast emotional aftermath to deal with. She's finally brushed aside all residual non-platonic feelings about their relationship but this night feels like a trap.

Logan waves the glass in front of her face. "It's not going to bite you." His voice holds a note of confrontation. "What's the worst that can happen?"

_Everything. Nothing. _Quickly shaking off her doubts, Rory makes a swipe at the glass; but hesitates as she holds it against her lips. It's juvenile and stupid (and probably doesn't remotely mean anything) but she thinks that if she can get through this night unscathed, then that will signify she's completely over him. After all, didn't she claim she was most honest in her drunken moments? "Promise you'll hold my hair if I end up in the bathroom."

Logan flashes her a cheeky grin. "I promise."

* * *

Pushing the swinging door to reveal the kitchen, she's relieved to discover bottles of water stacked on the large granite counter in the middle of the room. Stephanie just had to have dragged her along to meet the new foreign exchange boys with a penchant for vodka ("Please Rory! My other friends are too wasted to play wing woman right now!"). Rory idly grabs at the errant shot glass on the counter with her other hand as she flops into the closest barstool, giggling as she remembers learning (and winning thank you very much) how to play quarters from Logan a couple hours ago. Although she doesn't understand why he made her drink with him when he lost. What's the point of winning then? _Anyway_. She starts to softly hum 'Across the Universe',' concentrating on recalling the lyrics in her head as a made up sobriety test. She's just made it to the chorus when Logan's head peeks into the room.

"There you are. I lost you after you declared yet another toast to 'that damn idiot vampire Edward Cullen.'" He reaches across the island to slow the spinning shot glass. "Time to get you home."

Losing her place in the song, she adamantly disagrees. Rory believes she's succeeded in discovering the perfect balance between sober and… not sober. It's somewhere slightly past tipsy but far removed from where she was last time.

"There is no such thing as the perfect balance between being sober and being drunk, Ace." Amused, he grabs her hand and finagles her to his side, sliding an arm behind her waist to support her weight.

Rory looks up at him in awe of his psychic abilities, but fingers her bottom lip when she realizes she had rambled aloud. "Oh hey, I had a question. Why did I have to keep drinking with you when you're the one that lost in quarters?"

He bursts out laughing in surprise and merely shakes his head. "I think you've just proven my point. Let's go. I'll explain the rules to you tomorrow." Squeezing her waist once, they start to walk to the door, but she quickly sways to a stop when Finn magically appears in front of her. Finn's ironically sober enough to be amused at the sight of a drunken Rory.

"Why, that can't be the studious Rory Gilmore. Huntzberger, this must be your influence."

"I've been drunk before, Finn."

He smiles broadly, "Why yes, you have. But you have to let me have my fun, dear Rory. That was such a long time ago. It's as if it had never existed."

Suddenly, Colin is standing beside Finn and shoots her a pleased grin of his own. "Miss Rory, you're looking absolutely _smash_ing."

Naïve little Rory. Tired of everyone staring at her with arrogant expressions, she has the sudden urge to put on a show and starts to maneuver herself closer to Colin. "Hi, birthday boy."

Colin quickly looks over her shoulder to shoot Logan a tentative glance, uncertain of these foreign boundaries.

"Colin, do you remember that time you came to my class to profess your undying love to me?" She's taken to smoothing out his collar. "I was just wondering if any part of that speech was true because I'm seriously revaluating my decision on choosing Logan over you."

"And on that note, we're going to say goodbye to Colin and Finn_."_ Logan's been oddly quiet but now he quickly steps behind Rory and steers her out of the kitchen.

Before the door swings shut, she turns to blow a good night kiss to the boys- still rooted in place, shit-eating grins apparent on their faces. Laughing happily, she whispers in Logan's ear, "Now that was fun."

And he laughs along as if he's been in on the joke the entire time.

* * *

Lorelai glowers at him as he leads Rory into the house, but he can only manage a sheepish smile before making his exit.

Helping her daughter lurch dangerously into bed, Lorelai's surprised when Rory touches her wrist to stop her from leaving. "Mom? I'm sorry I left you alone today."

She turns back to ruffle Rory's hair and sits beside her on the bed. "It was fine hon. Luke came over and we had a movie night."

Rory stares at Lorelai's face, her blue eyes open wide-the picture of innocence. "I passed my test Mom. I was totally fine tonight, no residual feelings at all." She smiles at the thought. "I really am going to miss you this summer, you know. And I'll call you every day."

"I know, kid," she says-understands too much about the meaning laced beneath her incoherent words, knows Rory will try her best to keep that promise, _but-_and leans to lightly kiss Rory on the forehead. "I know."

* * *

Rory and Lorelai cram every one of their rituals into one week; saving the ice cream and movies until the very last day. The next morning Logan knocks on their backdoor around six a.m. ("You really told him to be here at six?" "Well, I didn't think he'd actually be here on time!") and the three of them pile Rory's things into the bright yellow Xterra he's rented, claiming that his own car hardly fit two people, let alone luggage.

He climbs into the driver's seat and lets Rory say her goodbyes in private. When he looks up again, they're hugging and laughing until Lorelai finally lets go first, pushing Rory toward the car. As Rory pulls on her seat belt, Lorelai leans against his door and quietly says, "Take care of her."

Nodding his assurance, she only finds sincerity on his face.

"Bye mom!" Rory waves from the passenger's side, breaking the solemn moment. A mutual understanding has passed between the two of them and he knows this is the closest he'll ever get to a formal approval from her. Moving away from the car, Lorelai waves as he backs out the driveway.

"So is it my turn to pick the music?" She's already digging the mountain of cds in her bag.

"Yep, so you better make your two hours count."

Rory shoots him a saucy grin before leaning forward to jam a cd into the stereo.

Bjork blasts through the speakers and he instantly groans. "No, no, no, no. Why are you doing this to me Ace?"

She's laughing hysterically in her seat. "I admit I could have picked a less controversial choice, but where's the fun in that?"

Fun indeed. Logan's never chosen earnestness over sarcasm, but when he says, "I'm glad you're coming with me this summer," he finds that he means it.

Smiling widely, she reaches over to grab his hand and squeezes tightly before letting go. "Nice try, but Bjork stays."


	5. Gut Check (Them's Fighting Words)

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own the show or any of the characters in it. I've also tweaked actual dialogue from the show.

A/N: Did I mention that I appreciate all who reviewed/favorited the story? Cause I totally do.

* * *

**Chapter Five: Gut Check (Them's Fighting Words)**

"Vermont!"

"No!"

"That's 41, Ace. Four more and you'll owe me three favors. "

"I know the rules of the game," she says irritably. Staring intently out the window, her eyes shift from one car to the next. "I did make them up."

"Indeed you did." He's smirking too widely for her liking. "But I bet you didn't count on how _excellent_ I am at this game."

They're about two and a half hours away from Chicago and to pass the time, they've been playing the license plate game for the past two days. For every 15 out of town license plates a player calls, the other player owes a favor or dare.

"It's not a _skill._ You're just looking at license plates. Anyone with eyes can play."

He grins when he sees her slumping lower in the seat. "What's your excuse then? You're terrible at this game."

"Quiet, Huntzberger."

Seconds later, she eagerly sits up, pointing out the window. "Ohio! That's 15 for me."

"At this point in the game, I can afford to be magnanimous. Great job, Ace."

"I hate you right now."

"Maryland!"

"Damn it."

* * *

By the end of the ride, Rory's hanging onto her one measly tally while he's racked up three. To take her mind off the (self-perceived) injustice of the situation, she suggests stopping by a market before heading to the apartment. Grocery shopping with Logan was like letting a kid have free rein in a candy store. She loved every minute of it. "Don't forget the artichoke dip. And Bagel Bites. And New York Super Fudge Crunch!"

He gives her a salute, edging backward toward the frozen foods section. "Aye, aye captain."

Ten minutes later, Logan spots her in the pasta aisle; completely engrossed in reading the labels on two different jars of marinara sauce. Grinning broadly, he quickly deposits the food into the cart and sneaks up behind her. He leans in close to her ear, making a grab for one of the jars in her hand. "Cooking dinner for someone special?"

Initially flinching at his touch, she relaxes when recognition floods in. A beat passes-her heart still beating erratically-before Rory turns around, meeting his eyes.

"Oh, very special." She smiles cloyingly at the skeptical look that crosses his face. "Like stop eating the paste special."

Grinning, he reaches out to tap her nose. "Cute, Ace."

"I try. So are you finished? I think we've got everything we need for now."

Logan eyes the enormous mound of junk food in the cart and indiscernibly shudders. Even he had limits. "Definitely."

Handily ignoring her attempts to drop the second jar in the basket, he starts pushing the cart to the checkout lines. "Oh hey I forgot to mention that Colin and Finn decided to stay for the whole week. Finn says to prepare yourself for their visit after he witnessed your wanton ways at Colin's party."

"So I guess me being here for an internship doesn't really resonate with him." She's finally victorious as an errant shopping cart breaks Logan's stride and the sauce jar from her hand clangs noisily into their cart. "They miss you already huh?"

"It's for the good of humanity Ace. Colin and Finn left alone is a bad idea. I told you about the chimp incident at that debutante ball right?"

"Are you implying _you're _the rational one out of the three?"

"Have you _met_ them?"

She stares at him incredulously. "Have you met you?"

"Cute."

* * *

Colin and Finn arrive the next day before dinner and the four of them spend an hour walking around-"To get a feel for the area," Logan says-before settling on a bar that looks remarkably similar to the one they frequent near Yale.

Eager to eat, Rory quickly doles out the menus once she's slid into the booth. "So we traveled 900 miles to hang out at the local pub. Golly gee guys, I don't know if I can handle all this excitement in one night."

Finn's idly scanning the menu. "I wonder if they've instated folk night here too."

Groans are heard around the table before Colin peers at the stage, visibly relaxing. "Oh good, an actual band is setting up. Where's the waitress? Drinks are in order."

As if she had been beckoned, the waitress suddenly materializes by their booth. "Welcome to Watson's. I'm Amber. Would you guys like to start with something to drink?"

It takes an hour-punctuated by several unsuccessful attempts by Colin to hit on Amber-but finally everyone's got a drink in hand and food in front of their faces.

Logan holds up his scotch glass. "To another great summer."

Colin raises his drink. "To no folk night."

They all clink glasses and proceed to ignore each other, ravenously digging into their meals.

* * *

"I'm stuffed." She delicately wipes her mouth with a paper napkin and leans back against the booth.

"You sure? I bet you could polish off the other half of that cow if you really want to." Ignoring the forthcoming frown on her face, Logan easily slides out of the booth. "I'll get our next round."

She can't help smiling when he counters her mock glare with one of his own and watches him walk off before turning around to ask Colin and Finn a question. "So what do you boys have planned for the week?"

Colin feigns a thoughtful pose. "Oh you know, visit the Art Institute Museum, catch a game at Wrigley Field, and maybe visit the ol' water tower. Gotta soak in the local culture while we're here."

"By 'local culture,' I'm sure you really meant to say girls. And-" she quickly says as Colin opens his mouth. "I know what you're going to say next so really, there's no need to say it aloud."

Finn chimes in. "I think we should go to that art museum. I'll spot a cute girl from across the room. Our eyes will meet. I'll go to her and we'll discuss our mutual admiration for the portrait in front of us. Then I'll tell her I painted it and she'll believe me because I have an accent."

Colin shakes his head in disbelief. "Your logic never fails to astound me."

"Exactly what part of my story did you have a problem with, Colin?"

"Just because you have an accent does not mean you can convince a girl you painted a portrait hanging in a museum."

"I can be very persuasive when I want to be. Rory, darling, tell Colin I'm charming."

There's a lull in the conversation as both boys look over at Rory. Distracted by a scene at the bar, she's momentarily lost to their stares before suddenly snapping out of her daze. Meeting their expectant faces, she gives them a patronizing grin. "Colin, Finn can be very charming when he wants to be."

Finn immediately pounces on her declaration. "See, I told you." He turns back to wink at her. "You're quite bewitching yourself, love."

"You're not the only charming one in this bar apparently." At Finn's puzzled expression, Colin gestures to where Logan is standing.

Finn gives a low whistle. "Well that was fast."

Following his line of sight, Rory witnesses what she had been staring at moments prior. Standing at the bar, Logan's animatedly flirting with the blonde, buxom bartender.

The three of them watch as the girl invitingly shifts her position to lean across the bar, reaching her hand across to touch Logan's arm. She whispers in his ear for a few moments before they break apart, both laughing out loud. In turn, Logan leans in to reply; the girl smiling demurely when he pulls away. Sharing a few parting remarks, he grabs the drinks and starts walking back to the table, only spotting their stares when he is a few steps away.

Ignoring Colin and Finn's catcalls as he sits down, Logan gives Rory a rueful smile. "So what'd I miss?"

* * *

The next morning is not kind to any of them but especially not to Finn. He's always been allergic to the sun (or so he claims) and a long night of boozing doesn't change his opinion. They finally wake him with the promise of pizza hand delivered by a hot redhead (the latter a lie-though the big burly delivery man did coincidentally have red hair). When everyone is sufficiently conscious, Rory suggests they do a little sightseeing-convinced that it would serve her internship well to scope out the surrounding area the newspaper covered. She wheedles and prods and gives assurances that she'll leave them to their hangovers for the rest of the week until they finally cave (with Logan even conceding the driver's seat-he's far too hung over to care).

Reluctantly filing into the car, the boys are lured into a false sense of security when she fervently affirms how they'll only visit a couple attractions. This complacency remains until Logan notices her smiling a bit too zealously and leans over the console to discover that her to-do list is _two _pages long.

Too late to back out, they're dragged all over town for most of the afternoon (with Rory furiously scribbling into her notebook at every landmark). At the Buckingham Fountain-their tenth(!) stop of the day-Finn finally throws her over his shoulder and Logan swipes the keys from her purse. Despite her protests that she's got two perfectly functioning legs, Finn carries her all the way to the car.

True to her word, Rory spends Sunday researching and poring over her notes while the guys sleep off their previous night; in the evening, she declines their invitation for another night of debauchery. Before she knows it, it's Monday morning and she's gulping down coffee before running out the door.

"Hi, I'm Rory Gilmore. I'm supposed to start my internship today." The receptionist motions for her to sit in an empty chair before making a call to the editor-in-chief.

A few minutes later, she hears her name being called and a bespectacled dark haired, middle-aged man walks forward to meet her. They shake hands. "Hi Rory, I'm Keith Cunningham. Let me get someone to show you around before Mitchum arrives for the general meeting."

Smiling gratefully, she follows him past several rows of cubicles and tries to contain the surge of nervousness building in her body.

"Matt." They've stopped near the back of the room and Rory sees a guy with dark blond hair inside the cubicle. "Rory's going to be interning for us this summer. Can you show her around the office?"

"Sure." Matt finishes typing a sentence before standing up to acknowledge Rory. She returns his friendly smile while subtly giving him the once-over, noting how he practically towered over her. "Follow me, Rory. I'll give you the grand tour."

Saying goodbye to Keith, she hurries after Matt. Breaking the silence, she asks, "So how long have you worked here?"

"Two years now. I started as a junior copy editor out of college and haven't left since. Are you still in school?"

"Yeah, I'm starting my junior year at Yale in the fall." Critically looking down at her outfit, she mutters under her breath. "I knew this dress was too college-y."

"What's that?"

Her head snaps back up. "Oh, nothing, I just… had a hard time picking out my outfit this morning." She carries on, trying to relieve the awkwardness. "I mean, I wanted to look professional but not too Lois Lane-y and I was worried about looking like a college kid…" She trails off at the sight of his smirk. "Sorry, I tend to babble when I'm nervous. So umm, where's the copy room?"

Matt wisely ignores her rant but the smile remains on his face as he points to his left. When he looks back at her, she's suddenly very aware of how bright his green eyes are. "Right here. Let's go in, this copier's a bit tricky."

* * *

Logan hears the door slam before the unmistakable click-clack of heels echoes loudly into the kitchen.

Without looking up from his laptop, he gestures her over. "Hey come check this out. This video is hilarious."

He replays the video and laughs to himself as she rounds the counter to open the pantry door. Finally tearing his eyes from the screen, he only sees her back as she roots through the pantry. "Ace? What are you looking for?"

Straightening up, Rory turns around to address him. "Did we end up buying that package of doughnuts from the market? I can't find them anywhere. Did you make me put them back in favor of the Twinkles or did we just buy both?"

"Ace-"

"Anyway, it doesn't matter. I'm going to pick some up right now. Want anything?" She's in the midst of retrieving her keys when he reaches over the counter to grab her hand, promptly stilling her movements.

"Rory." Grasping her fingers, he leads her around the island until she's sitting in the barstool next to him. "What happened today?"

She's staring down at their entwined hands, trying to collect herself by taking a deep breath; her voice impassive when she starts to speak. "I had no idea what I was doing all day. I didn't know where I was supposed to be and if I was miraculously in the right place, I didn't have anything relevant to say. I could give a long discussion on the benefits of Bic versus Paper Mate but a comment about something that mattered? Nothing! Zilch, nada. All that research and I had nothing to say." A pout forms on her face. "And I walked straight into a file cabinet."

He unsuccessfully muffles his snickers at her last confession, earning her ire. "Come on." He nudges her shoulder with his. "Laugh. That last part was funny."

"Say that to my bleeding big toe," she says spitefully but he can see the corners of her mouth twitching as if trying to hold back a smile.

"It was your first day. Tomorrow's bound to be better. You just have to get the hang of things, learn my father's habits. And…" He sighs reluctantly, wracking his brain for any scrap of information about his father he hasn't actively tried to forget. "And my father tends to let people go at seven, but he keeps going 'til eight thirty or nine, and he notices the people who stay. He hates double talk, but he's really good at it."

Logan rolls his eyes as Rory hastily drops his hand to dig in her bag for a pen and paper but continues talking. "And, uh, he has high blood pressure so he switches to decaf after four. And… he doesn't like peas," he says, finishing lamely. He watches her scribble a few more notes in the margins before she meets his gaze, all doe-eyed and adoring.

Her face breaks into a grateful smile. "Thanks, Logan. I really, really appreciate this. I know how much you hate talking about your dad."

Swiftly diverting his focus from her stare, he absentmindedly clears his throat and changes the subject. "That I do. Anyway, Colin, Finn, and I went to that museum you guys were talking about the other day."

"You three? What for?" Realization dawns as she notices the huge grin spreading across his face. "Please tell me Finn tried out his 'artist' scenario."

Logan nods enthusiastically. "Three times. The first two walked away but it actually worked on the last girl. Apparently she's studying art at the University of Chicago and they ended up hanging out all afternoon. Fin mentioned something about body art."

Shuddering at the thought, he glances at the clock above the sink and realizes he's running late. Quickly standing, Logan grabs his keys from the counter. "I'm supposed to meet Colin at Watson's for dinner. He thinks if he's persistent enough, Amber will give in. Wanna come? You can meet the artist. Finn's bringing her along."

She shakes her head. "I'm going to stay in tonight. Do a little more research before tomorrow." Seeing his pointed look, she tries her best to appear composed. "I'm fine, I promise. I just want to be prepared for tomorrow. Plus I owe my mom a phone call." She shoves him toward the living room. "Go, I'll be fine."

"Pass along my regards to Lorelai." He impulsively turns around to hug her, walking out of the kitchen before she can reciprocate. "Tell her I've yet to proposition you, even in my weakest moments."

She grins at his retreating back. "She'll be impressed by your virtue."

* * *

A week later, he's wandering around the newspaper office, trying to remember exactly where the receptionist said to turn after the first right. After a few wrong turns, he finally spots her head behind a gray cubicle and knocks on one of the walls.

"Logan, what are you doing here?" Rory eyes his fancy blue suit. "Looking all spiffy."

Before he can respond, Matt appears by her cubicle, holding a stack of folders. "Hey, these need to go to Catherine. And can you make me ten copies of this?"

She nods as he hands them over. "Will do. Keith wants to see you when you have a minute. Something about the layout not being 'pleasing to the eye.'"

"Great, there goes my lunch hour." Turning to face Logan, he extends his hand. I'm Matt."

An unsettled expression flits across his face before Logan reaches to meet the outstretched hand. "Logan. Nice to meet you."

Nodding a farewell at Logan, Matt winks at Rory as he walks away. "By the way, not too college-y today."

She's smiling shyly when she turns back to Logan. "So, what are you doing here?"

He ignores her question. "Looks like things got better after that first day. Should I be on the lookout for a sock on your door soon?" Over her indignant sputters, Logan glances around the room. "Have you seen my dad? I can tell he's close by. The flurry, the frightened, the shuffle of sycophants-"

"Logan, there you are." Mitchum suddenly appears by his side. "Did you memorize those profiles I sent over yesterday? We're meeting the investors in fifteen minutes."

"I did. Had to make some room between my expansive knowledge of Three's Company and Seinfeld but I managed." Mitchum claps him on the back and starts leading the way. Logan shuffles closely behind before making a face over his shoulder, noiselessly begging her to save him.

Mitchum's voice rings out. "We're going to four if you want to join us Rory."

Voicing her yes, she shrugs dramatically at Logan, fake sympathy painted on her face. Quickly saving her work, she practically jogs to catch up to them. They're rounding the corner to the conference room when she threads her arm through his. Successively bumping her hip to his, Rory only stops when she hears him chuckling. As they reach the doorway, Logan stops to gesture her through before following behind, resigned to his fate.

* * *

"Nice seeing you again, Logan. Stop by the house when you get the chance." The older man clasps Logan's shoulder as he walks out of the conference room. "Diana was just asking about you the other day."

"Well I'll probably see her in Martha's Vineyard in a couple weeks. I'll be sure to stop by then." Logan smiles politely at him before giving his father a nod as they walk away. He ducks back into the conference room and sees Rory gathering stray papers off the table.

"Hey Ace, let's grab some lunch. I'm starved."

"Of course you are, superstar." She beams at him, her eyes shining proudly. "You did so well."

"You sound very surprised." He points at his head. "Did you really think I had nothing going on up here?"

Dialing back her grin, she shrugs her shoulders. "I had my doubts."

"Damn. I knew there had to be at least one drawback to my good looks."

"Seriously, Logan," she says, giving him another warm smile. "You were great in there."

He's unexpectedly touched by her words but maintains his blasé attitude. "Careful now, you don't want to feed my ego too much." He grabs the stack of papers from her hands. "Let's go. I'll even buy you lunch."

"Deal. You know I was just buttering you up until you offered to pay right?"

* * *

They settle into a domestic routine over the next month. Every morning, she leaves for work by 7:30 while he's still sleeping and comes home after she's done for the day so they can grab dinner. Some nights she joins him at the bar to unwind but usually begs off when she's feeling especially drained-when the thought of ice cream and a good book is too tempting to ignore. Rory very casually starts dating Matt (though a sock never appears on her doorknob) while Logan very casually starts dating several girls at a time. Sometimes he doesn't come home for days and she only knows not to worry by the drunken voicemail left on her phone. On some mornings he strolls through the door after a late, late night and by the time she's out of the bathroom, the coffee's already made and he's sitting at the counter, reading the paper. They make a tacit agreement that Sundays are to be spent together (she unofficially dubs it 'Roommate Bonding Time') and she likes to drag him to brunch before he spends the afternoon trying to get her to do anything remotely active ("I know you know how to bike. Come on, just a short ride."). More often than not, he calls it quits after a few hours and they end up lounging in front of the tv.

This morning, she makes it down to the kitchen in record time and thus, has the luxury of skimming through the events section. Grabbing her third pop tart from the toaster, she sits back down at the island, eagerly opening up the paper.

"Hey, Rory right?"

Slightly peeved by the interruption, Rory looks up to see Ashley, the bartender from Watson's, standing in the kitchen doorway. The most consistent of Logan's dates, Rory's met her several times this summer but her name always seems to elude Ashley's memory.

"Right."

"Do you mind if I have some coffee? My shift starts soon and I can't function in the morning without caffeine."

Sympathizing completely, she lets out a small smile. "Sure, help yourself."

Ashley pours herself a full mug before leaning against the counter's edge, turning to face Rory. "So how long have you and Logan been friends?"

With her mind still on the theatre section, she distractedly looks up to meet Ashley's gaze. "We met at the beginning of my sophomore year so, about a year now."

Nodding knowingly, she takes another sip from her mug. "So did you guys ever hook up?"

Startled, Rory regretfully pushes the newspaper completely aside, a frown appearing on her lips. "I don't know if that's any of your business."

Ashley suddenly tries to backtrack. "Sorry, I wasn't implying anything. I was just wondering how you guys managed to be friends without any of the sexual tension getting in the way."

"We make it work."

"Well I guess that's better for me." Rory can tell by the too bright smile on Ashley's face that she's trying to make amends. "Logan's so great, isn't he? I mean, I know his type. He was pretty straight forward about our relationship at the beginning but I think we're getting along really well. I know there are other girls but I'm willing to stick it out." Her demeanor changes as she looks straight at Rory, all signs of affability wiped off her face. "No matter who the girl is."

Rory shakes her head in disbelief. Did that really just happen? Refusing to be baited, she gets up from the stool. "Good luck with that. Feel free to have some more coffee if you need. I have to get to work."

They exchange terse good-byes and Rory walks out the door, already annoyed at the day.

* * *

She's watching _American Psycho _when he comes home that night. Tossing his keys on the coffee table, he flops down next to her on the couch. "I love this movie."

"You two are remarkably similar, both business men and narcissists. Though Patrick Bateman's got the better music collection." She relents after he gives her a look. "Okay, okay, your collection is just as good."

Stretching out on the couch, he purposefully stretches out his arms, giving her a shove. "So how was work today? Did you crack open corruption from within the ranks yet? Find out who keeps taking your secret stash of Twizzlers?"

"No one's cracked yet, but I'm still on the case." Rory looks over at him as she brusquely pushes his feet back to his side. "By the way, your father told me to remind you about the meeting tomorrow. You need to be there at 8:30 this time."

Logan's eyes stay firmly fixed on the screen. "Don't think I'll be able to make it tomorrow."

"You have other plans at 8:30 in the morning?"

He shrugs. "Not really, but I figure I can catch up on my beauty rest. I've already been to three meetings this month."

Her bewilderment is replaced by disappointment. "So you're just not going to go."

"Yeah, it's not a big deal. My father can handle it. I'm only there to chime in when he needs another voice agreeing with him."

She's sure she looks like a goldfish at this point, repeatedly opening and closing her mouth, trying to formulate words that wouldn't put him on the defensive.

"You have something to say Ace?"

Rory can read the underlying warning behind his words, but she's far too annoyed right now to take heed. "Nope, nothing important. I'm sure you need that extra rest. It's got to be _exhausting_ having people fawn over you all the time instead of you actually doing something beneficial with your life." Knowing her statements cut deeper than intended, she feels a twinge of regret.

He remains dangerously calm, perpetuating his mask of indifference. "What are you getting at?"

This is when she normally caves, backtracking on her words to soften her intent. But this time, her foul mood eggs her on. It's been that kind of day. "I'm just making an observation about how and who you like to spend your time with." She sweeps her hair over one shoulder and dramatically bats her eyelashes at him. "Oh Logan, you're so _amazing._ I'm going to constantly cling onto your arm and push my boobs together every time you look at me."

Despite being impressed by her spot on impression of Ashley, she's really starting to piss him off. And he knows how to push her buttons too. "Careful. Someone might get the impression that you're jealous."

"What? No! It's not about that." And it really wasn't. Rory hates that tone: smug, calculated, cold. "Look, I don't care who you go out with, go out with every girl in Chicago. But you have every door open to you. You have endless opportunities, opportunities anyone would kill for. How can you not take advantage of that?"

Hurt unfurls in his chest before he has the chance to steel himself against her barbs. "_I'm_ the one with all these open doors? What about you? You can do anything you want. Go into journalism. Go into politics. Be a doctor. Do whatever you want." Logan's voice rises as their conversation devolves into a screaming match. "All I see is one door and I'm being pushed through it. I don't want that life! It's forced on me."

"And how hard are you fighting it? Drinking and partying any chance you get." She scoffs derisively. "You've really made a valiant effort to change your lot in life."

Neither speaks for the next few minutes; the deafening silence dragging on as they continue to glare at one another, fury blazing from their eyes.

He finally breaks the quiet, his words dripping with mockery. "Thanks Rory, but I get enough of this from my _actual_ parents."

The look on his face makes her stop short. Vulnerability peeks through his furious demeanor and all at once, she realizes she's overstepped her bounds. God, she really did sound like his father. "Look I'm-I'm sorry. I'm having a really crappy day and I shouldn't have taken it out on you." She noisily exhales as her anger slowly deflates. "I just don't like seeing you take the easy way out."

His tone is still full of righteous indignation. "Meaning you expect me to change. Cut out the drinking, the partying, the stunts, grow up to be boring and responsible."

"No. That's not it." She hears him gripe in disbelief, but she's steadfast in her denial-knows she's not lying. "I really don't want you to change. Without you… without you I wouldn't have jumped off a seven story tower with an umbrella and a hook attached to my back. Without you I wouldn't have snuck up to the roof of the Sterling Library just to see the view. And I _definitely_ would never have been first in line for cocoa puffs." She finally sees the corner of his mouth start to quirk up and catches his gaze before continuing. "I just know you're capable of doing great, amazing things and I want to see you achieve them... But I know it's not my place. I promise not to nag you about it anymore."

He's feels the tension in his body start to dissipate, surprised to find himself once again affected by her opinion of him. "I gotta say, this spiel sounds a hell of a lot better coming from you than it ever did from my parents." Logan lets out a sigh and rests his elbows on his knees, rubbing his face with his hands. He hates it when she's genuine. It makes it much harder for him to say no. "Alright, alright, I give. I'll be at the meeting tomorrow."

She rewards him with a huge grin. "You know if you really want to figure out something else I can help you." She bends her head down to match his position, trying to reclaim his attention. "I know you laugh at my pro/con list but they can be very helpful. And research, I'm excellent at research."

"I know, Ace. I know." Logan gives her a small smile in return. "One step at a time alright? I'll go to the meeting tomorrow and plan out the rest of my life some other time." Still trying to get a grip on his emotions, he veers the conversation into more familiar territory. "By the way, I feel it's now safe to compliment you on your _excellent_ Ashley impression."

"Well, I have been practicing all day." Briefly wrestling with whether she should him about the conversation this morning, the urge to spill wins out. "She kind of threatened me over coffee this morning. Said she wasn't going to let anyone stand in the way of you and her and then stared me down."

Logan raises an eyebrow. "Stared you down? What is this, _You Got Served_? Anyway, I doubt you'll ever run into her again. She left me four messages this morning about how she couldn't wait to see me tonight. I thought it was time to let her know I'd be leaving in two weeks."

She doesn't even bother trying to hide her delight. "Good. She never even remembered my name. And her laugh"-Rory lets out a shrill, mocking giggle-"drove me insane."

Logan leans in close, his eyes bright with amusement. "Hey, do that impression again." A roguish grin appears on his face. "But this time press your boobs together and cling onto my arm."

Moving away from him, she smiles bashfully and gives him a friendly shove. "Shut up. It was all I could think to say."

"I'm not complaining."

Rory rolls her eyes as she gets up and extends her hand out to him. "Come on, grab your dad's notes and I'll help you sort through them. I'll even get snacks from the pantry."

Letting out an exaggerated sigh, he grabs her hand to pull himself up. "Fine, but just know I'm going to get ridiculously wasted tomorrow night and expect you to take care of me.

"And here I thought we just had a breakthrough about maturity."

"We did. That's why you're driving tomorrow."


End file.
